The Crying Place

Without assemblage I hid in a stall.

It’s a place some men go to cry,

Why am I crying? You tell me.

Sometimes it just happens like a firefly

slowly dodging the big things in its life.

Guys like me do that too. We dodge.

We fear the big people in our lives. Though,

we fear the small things, but now I’m crying

because I’m dying, my heart’s been clubbed.

Selfish me, crying for myself. Not true my love.

I cry for us. We came as a pair